


make me into something sweet

by SummerFrost



Series: fuck it, i love you [4]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Begging, Biting, Breathplay, Choking, Come as Lube, Crying, Devil Face (Lucifer TV), Drinking, Established Relationship, M/M, Marking, Objectification, Painplay, Possessive Sex, Power Exchange, Praise Kink, Rape Roleplay, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21599749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerFrost/pseuds/SummerFrost
Summary: Dan had heard all the rumors about what happens to people who work for Mr. Morningstar. He just hadn't expected them to betrue.(Or: Lucifer and Dan roleplay Dan's rape fantasy. Aftercare included.)
Relationships: Dan Espinoza/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: fuck it, i love you [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1504298
Comments: 9
Kudos: 396





	make me into something sweet

**Author's Note:**

> This fic can be considered an outtake from my much longer series, but it's also a self-contained, very indulgent PWP. No context needed to enjoy, and not necessary reading for the rest of the series.
> 
> The fic starts during the roleplay and continues into the aftercare once the scene concludes.
> 
> Title from Fuck It, I Love You by Lana Del Rey

Dan is hunched over the bar, anxiously wiping down the counters in preparation for his first real shift. Lux opens in an hour, and while his coworkers keep promising that it never gets too crazy on a Wednesday night and he can  _ totally  _ handle it on his own while they take the night off, he's seventy percent sure that they're hazing him and this is gonna be a disaster.

Which is a problem, because it's a miracle he got this job to begin with, and he  _ really  _ needs it. Dan's been down on his luck for a while, is the thing, and it's not like he has a ton of marketable skills.

He looks up at the sound of footsteps echoing down the stairs, calling out, "Sorry, we're not open yet!"

"I'm well aware," says a man dressed in a three-piece suit. He smirks, dark eyes glinting, as he trails a hand down the banister. "But I  _ think _ one of the benefits of owning the place is that I can drop by whenever I'd like—wouldn't you agree?"

Oh, shit. Dan stands up a little straighter and stammers out, "M-Mister Morningstar? I'm sorry, I'm—"

"New, yes." The other man makes his way behind the bar, blatantly dragging his eyes up Dan's body—checking to make sure his uniform is up to code, maybe? "Did Benjamin hire you? He knows my taste  _ quite  _ well."

Okay, so maybe it's not about the uniform, but—it's not like it matters. Dan doesn't swing that way, and even if he did, it's not like anything would happen with his new  _ boss. _

He takes a step back, reaching for the bottle of bourbon they keep under the bar as an excuse. This part, his co-workers prepared him for: when the boss drops by, put a drink in his hand.

"Uh, yeah. I started last week," Dan says. He pours two fingers into a glass, holding it out in offering. "Here you go, Mr. Morningstar."

"Oh, please—call me Lucifer," he answers, taking the glass, and gestures towards the bottle. "Why don't you pour yourself one. It's horrible manners to make me drink alone, don't you think?"

Dan blinks, hesitating. "Uh… you want me to drink on the job, sir?"

Lucifer hums while he takes a sip. "Of course. Why should I get to have all the fun? You like to have fun, don't you…?"

"Dan," he supplies, clearing his throat. Lucifer is still staring at him with—with amusement, maybe. A little bit like his cousin's cat swishing its tail at a bird. "Uh, Daniel Espinoza."

"Daniel," Lucifer repeats. He drains his glass, sets it down on the bar, and gestures for it to be refilled. "It suits you. Have a drink with me."

It doesn't feel like a suggestion anymore. Dan pours them both a round and gulps his down, wincing when the burn hits his throat. He didn't eat dinner before coming in and the booze makes him feel warm and woozy, settling in his stomach, even though he knows it can't be hitting him that fast.

"There, now, was that so hard?" Lucifer doesn't touch his glass again. Instead, he plucks the bottle off the counter and glances at the label. "Do you enjoy bourbon, Daniel?"

Dan hesitates again, wondering if he's supposed to say yes. But he's heard that Lucifer doesn't like liars, so he settles on the truth. "Uh, it's not my favorite, sir."

"Have another," Lucifer tells him, almost absentmindedly, as he sets the bottle aside. "Perhaps it will grow on you."

Dan glances nervously at the clock and says, "Uh, I'm not sure if I should—I mean, I just wanna make sure I can do a good job for you tonight, so—"

"Oh, you needn't worry about that," his boss cuts in, looking Dan up and down again. He's shifting closer, so subtly Dan almost wouldn't notice except for how it makes his hair stand on end. "I think you'll be very good to me."

Dan's back presses against the counter. This isn't—he's imagining this, right? It's just—everyone says that the Morningstar guy is eccentric, maybe a little fruity, but not—

There's a drink in Dan's hand. The one he poured for Lucifer, maybe, but he gets what he's supposed to do with it.

If he does what Lucifer wants, maybe he'll get bored. 

Dan drinks slowly, averting his eyes, pretending he can't tell that Lucifer's are fixed on his throat. He breathes through his nose, digging the fingertips of his other hand against the bartop, and puts the empty glass back down. 

"That's a good boy," Lucifer fucking  _ purrs,  _ and a shiver runs up Dan's spine despite himself. "A glass or two of that is worth your nightly salary, I believe. I've been very generous, sharing it with you."

"Sir?" Dan asks helplessly, his fingers slipping away from his drink.

He's not surprised when Lucifer touches him, but it still makes his stomach twist.

Dan shrinks away from the hand at his hip, stepping to the side and protesting, "I'm sorry, Mister—Lucifer, sir, I'm—I'm flattered, but I'm, uh, straight, so—"

"Oh, I highly doubt that." Lucifer cups his cheek with a gentle brush of his thumb, but the press of his fingers along Dan's jaw is insidiously firm. "Pretty little things like you never are. Not by the time I'm done with you, at least."

No, that's—Dan's wondered, maybe, and it feels a little hard to think, but that's from the booze and the spiced scent of Lucifer's cologne and the adrenaline making his head dizzy and he's not shuddering because he  _ likes  _ it. He's  _ not. _

Is that worse? Dan can't say. His tongue feels thick.

"Oh, no need to be so _shy,_ darling," Lucifer coos. He slips his thigh between Dan's legs and rocks forward slightly. "It's just the two of us here. I won't tell a soul if you don't."

Dan shakes his head, pulling away from the hand on his face. He doesn't—he  _ can't.  _ No, it's not even—

"I'm sorry," he rasps, and tries to brush politely past him. "I'm really not interested—"

All it gets him is pushed back against the bar, and a sharp pain radiating up from the small of his back.

_ "Manners,  _ Daniel," Lucifer tuts. "Don't shove!"

Dan nods weakly, holding his breath when Lucifer leans in to kiss him—

And then sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as hard as he can manage, trying to make a break for it when Lucifer shouts in surprise.

He makes it around the bar before Lucifer wraps a bruising hand around his arm and tosses him like a ragdoll into the nearest booth.

It knocks the wind out of Dan—making his head go fuzzy and forcing him to gasp for breath, which he doesn't quite manage before Lucifer is on top of him with a hand around his throat.

"If you scream," Lucifer growls, with that perfect hair falling in his face and his eyes—oh, _God,_ his eyes barely look _human,_ burning like hot coals. "I'll have to tear it out."

Dan can't breathe. He's pinned down and fucking helpless and he thinks about fighting until Lucifer forces him to pass out—at least he won't have to know, won't have to  _ remember— _ but there's this other part of him that—

Dan lets himself go limp and wheezes desperately when Lucifer takes his hand away, and his throat is burning out from the inside and the rush of oxygen almost makes him giddy, like he's—he's  _ grateful,  _ and the Devil is supposed to care about courtesy, right? That's what everyone says.

"There's my good boy, shh," Lucifer soothes, suddenly gentle again, dragging a hand down Dan's heaving chest. His eyes are brown and sparkling and soft, and maybe Dan's just—maybe he imagined it. Maybe he can—

"Please," he whispers. "Please, don't."

"Oh, Daniel," Lucifer says, like he's very sorry about it, and undoes the button on Dan's pants. "Don't you know? The Devil only gives you what you desire."

Dan tries to squirm away and hits the back of the booth. "But I don't— _ don't,  _ please, I don't want—"

Lucifer tucks his hand into Dan's underwear, raising his eyebrows delightedly when he realizes—oh,  _ God— _ when he realizes that Dan is hard.

"Oh, don't you?" he asks, tonguing at his bottom lip as he tugs at Dan's dick. "You  _ naughty  _ little thing."

_ "No."  _ Dan closes his eyes, pushes away, but there's nowhere to go and it just make him arch more firmly into Lucifer's touch. "No, that doesn't…"

Lucifer rips Dan's shirt open with one hand—almost absentmindedly, dragging that same hand up Dan's bare chest. "Why did you come to work here, Daniel?"

It's possessive, curious. He circles a nipple and Dan stammers, "I—I needed money."

"Oh! Well, I have  _ plenty  _ of that." Lucifer pinches, tugging gently while he works Dan over with the other hand, and—

No.  _ No,  _ it doesn't—it can't feel good. It  _ can't. _

Dan tries to shake his head, but his body won't move like he wants it to. It's twitching, aching, a drop of precome leaking out at the coaxing of Lucifer's thumb.

"This isn't how I…" he tries, but Lucifer clucks his tongue and his throat seizes up.

"Surely you'd heard the rumors, Daniel," Lucifer says, smiling like they're sharing a fun secret.

"I didn't—" Dan gasps at the twist of Lucifer's wrist, hot shame rising to his face. He can't  _ stop  _ it. "I didn't think they were true."

"But you  _ hoped,  _ didn't you?" Lucifer purrs, and he slinks up Dan's body like a cat, digging his thumb into the soft underside jaw to make Dan look. His teeth shouldn't be so  _ sharp.  _ "Did you touch yourself while you thought about it?"

Dan sobs. There's this pressure in his chest, building, and every time he tries to close his eyes the pain blooms in his jaw until he blinks them open.

"Please," he whispers.

"It's alright, dear," Lucifer answers, frowning with sympathy before he moves to bite at Dan's neck. His breath is hot and slow. Dan is starting to hyperventilate. "They all start out this way, you know. 'I had no choice, the Devil made me do it.' You can pretend as long as you need to."

Dan can finally squeeze his eyes shut. It doesn't help, much, because he can feel it everywhere. The way his skin isn't  _ crawling,  _ the way it's—-the way he's—

Maybe Lucifer is right. Maybe he wanted it. 

His body does. He's going to come and he's going to like it, at least a little, and it's worse this way because he's sobbing, these little noises punching out of his throat, and he can pretend that he's still trying to get away but he's just writhing into the pleasure until it bleeds him dry.

"There we go," Lucifer murmurs, so warm and—and  _ proud.  _ He swipes two fingers through the come on Dan's stomach and trails them down to Dan's hole. "I'm going to have you now."

Dan blinks up at the ceiling. His tears are making the lights go all blurry, and he doesn't say no. He thinks because it won't help.

He whimpers when those fingers push inside, stinging even with the slip of his own come.

"Shh, it's alright, darling. I know, it's going to be quite difficult for you," Lucifer soothes, as he pulls out to wet him with more come. "I'll try to be gentle. You're such a delicate little thing."

"Don't," Dan manages, pleading in a whisper. Lucifer's fingers are stretching him open rhythmically, scissoring inside him, and it's— "Don't, please."

Lucifer raises an eyebrow again, pleasantly surprised. He pulls his fingers out abruptly and starts to do his belt with his clean hand.

"Don't be  _ gentle?" _ he asks, biting his bottom lip in obvious delight, and Dan's too out of it to do anything with rising dread. "Well, if you insist."

It's not—he can't—

Lucifer pushes in, no condom, which Dan should worry about, and all Dan can do is breathe and hurt and want to get hard again and feel dazed horror at the warm thing twisting in his gut that doesn't seem like terror anymore.

It's not good, but he wants—

Lucifer is fucking him so hard that his entire body jarrs against the booth and he can see stars, up in the rafters, and there's this sparking feeling on every thrust that he can't explain. It's like he's still coming but from outside his body.

"Can't," he pleads. Can't what?  _ Can't do this. Can't stop. If you stop it'll finally kill me. _

"You can," Lucifer assures him, teeth sinking into his earlobe. "You were made for this, you see. I'm going to keep you for quite a while."

Dan keeps sobbing. There are hands all over his body, pressing at his hip and at his face—checking the bones, bruising him, wiping at tears. His dick is getting hard again. He never gets hard again.

Lucifer hauls them both up suddenly, so Dan is in his lap. He slips out and guides himself back in, and Dan hides his face in Lucifer's neck with a shattered sound punching out of his throat.

"Shh," Lucifer soothes. He feels so much deeper from his angle, taking Dan by the hips and jerking him on his dick like he's a fucking toy. "Shh, we mustn't be too loud, dear. You wouldn't want anyone to see how much you like it, would you?"

Dan sobs harder, limp in Lucifer's arms. He can't help it, can't do anything besides get used up and shiver when fingers card through his hair and try to scream right before that hand clamps down over his nose and mouth.

"What did I  _ tell  _ you," Lucifer growls, and Dan might actually pass out. Things go a little dim, he can't think straight, he wants to come. It'll be worth it if he comes.

He taps weakly against Lucifer's shoulder, trying to push away, and coming can't describe what happens to him when the hand drops. It hurts everywhere. It's the best thing he's ever felt. He ruins Lucifer's perfect shirt and he can't feel his face and maybe he wanted it.

"Don't worry, I won't break you," Lucifer murmurs, tilting Dan's body so that they're looking at each other. He's suddenly so gentle, rocking his hips up into Dan, or maybe Dan just can't tell the difference anymore, and his eyes flash red. "I take good care of my things."

Dan comes again, in a distant way. A little dribble down his dick, smearing into the mess on the shirt, this faint idea that maybe something's wrong, maybe he used to be a person. But this is so easy.

He lets his head loll against Lucifer's shoulder, brushing his lips against his neck. It's nice. Maybe Lucifer will be good to him.

Dan knows it's over when the eyes change—and the come trickles down his thigh.

"Alright, love?" Luce asks softly, shifting to rest Dan against the cushions. He hesitates, for a second, before thumbing at Dan's cheek.

Dan smiles—maybe a little dopey, but he thinks it's deserved. "Yeah."

"I…" Luce shakes his head gently. His hair is flopping in his face and he looks a little out of it himself, the way he's suddenly so unsure. "Can I kiss you?"

Dan says, "Yeah," again. Of course.

It's so good. Just as good as everything else. Dan can barely believe he gets to touch him, fingers carding through his hair, drawing his knees up and feeling the damp shirt stick to his skin.

"I love you," Dan whispers. "Thank you."

"Likewise, naturally." Luce kisses his lips again, then his nose. "Shall I carry you upstairs?"

Dan tries to curl his toes. He can see that it works, but he's only half back down into his body. "Please."

"You've said that so much, it hardly feels like a word anymore," Luce teases, scooping him up, and Dan huffs out a laugh.

They make it back up to the penthouse, and Luce sits him down on the kitchen counter to slip a bottle of Gatorade into his hand.

"Shower or food first, love?" Luce asks, nosing at his temple while he drinks.

Dan's pretty sure they're gonna have to majorly sanitize the counters. He finishes gulping down the bottle and picks, "Uh, shower."

Luce scoops him up again after a quick kiss, and Dan snorts.

"I think I can probably walk again, you know," he teases.

Luce stiffens. "Do you want me to put you down?"

Dan resists the urge to roll his eyes, nuzzling against Luce's neck instead. He gets that Luce is overcorrecting, and it's kinda adorable, but unnecessary. "Nah, babe. You're good."

Luce hums, relaxing slightly, and carries him into the bathroom. The shower steams up fast while they strip out of their remaining clothes—Dan makes a mental note to rescue the rest from downstairs later—and Dan tilts his head under the stream with a sigh of relief.

With the high wearing off, he's actually pretty sore. Which is pointed out to him by the brush of Lucifer's fingers against a gnarly bruise on his hip.

"Ouch," Dan hisses, wincing.

Luce frowns apologetically and reaches for the fancy shampoo, turning Dan by the waist instead when he goes to wash his hair for him. "Sorry, love. Was I too rough on you?"

Dan shakes his head and leans it back against Lucifer's shoulder, smearing suds across his skin. He smiles, looking up at him, and reassures, "You were perfect, babe."

"Oh." Luce smiles back tentatively, then turns Dan again to let him rinse out the shampoo. "Good. Still, though, my apologies for the… lasting effects."

Dan looks down at the bruises scattered over his body—some he can't even remember getting—and feels a giddy shiver run up his spine.

"I kinda like it," he admits, glancing up with his lip caught shyly between his teeth. Which is a ridiculous thing to be embarrassed about, considering the last three orgasms, but— "You know, I kinda didn't expect you to be so skittish about it."

And, here—he's expecting indignance. Lucifer huffing, crossing his arms, maybe, and scoffing,  _ 'Skittish? How  _ dare  _ you!' _

Instead, Luce's eyes droop thoughtfully and he says, "Yes, well—I didn't either. But…"

Dan thumbs at his bottom lip. "Yeah?"

Luce shakes his head, laughing softly at himself, and turns away to busy himself with the conditioner. The line of his shoulders is tight, uneasy scars rippling. Dan had almost forgotten they were there.

"Hey," Dan says quietly. "You know I don't… see you that way, right? Like, we were just playing."

The scars droop. Luce still doesn't look at him.

Dan steps out of the spray, taking him by the wrist—Luce turns at that, at Dan bringing his hand to his chest, with wide eyes.

"I trust you," Dan tells him. "So much, Luce. You make me feel safe—that's the only reason I could do what we did."

Luce's lips twitch. He presses his palm flat over Dan's heartbeat. "I know, love. And thank you. I was… reflecting."

"On what?" asks Dan.

"Well, you see—this was  _ hardly _ the first time I've indulged a lover with such a fantasy." Luce steps closer again as he explains, and brushes his fingers through Dan's hair. "And yet… this was different."

Dan reaches up and cups his jaw. "Why?"

The water is sluicing down Dan's back and the steam is rising all around them, and Luce's wet stubble scrapes against Dan's palm when he presses his cheek into it.

"They weren't you," he says earnestly. "And I suppose that makes me feel less sure of myself—but, somehow, also… more?"

Dan smiles with a burst of affection. His feet slip a little against the flooring when he reaches up to kiss him and tease, "Sap."

"How  _ dare  _ you," Luce murmurs and smiles into the next kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! The final main part of the series should be posted in a few days <3


End file.
